Get Back Up Again
by ILikeMovies
Summary: Sequel to Even Super Soldiers Fall. Two weeks after Steve and Tony were rescued from the hell hole prison they were tortured in, and the man responsible for their suffering is still out there. They need to get to him before he can get to Steve. But nothing is ever as easy as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys. I really ****was going to finish my stories _No Man's Land_ and _Survival Of The Fittest _before beginning my sequel to _Even Super Soldiers Fall_, but I just couldn't wait anymore. **

**First off, I want to say a huge huge thank you to everyone who reviewed on my last story! The reviews and comments were so amazing and flattering and humbling! Seriously guys, you reviewers make my day every single time! **

**So, here goes. I'm incredibly nervous because I don't want to disappoint all you amazing followers and favoriters and reviewers. I hope you enjoy. This first chapter gets into the story really fast, but this story is going to be much faster paced than _Even Super Soldiers Fall_. **

****As always, I do not own the Avengers, or SHIELD. Also, you don't have to read _Even Super Soldiers Fall_ before you read this, but it might make this story easier to understand. ****

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><p>It had been two weeks since the Avengers had successfully managed to rescue Steve and Tony from Clarke and Roberts. They had found Tony and Steve in dire need of medical attention. Tony had cracked a rib and his cheekbone. But Steve had been much, much worse. Roberts, Steve's torturer, had helped with organizing the entire abduction just to get to Steve. Clarke had helped with organizing the abduction to exact revenge on Steve for killing his brother. So, Steve had inevitably received the majority of the beatings. His ribs and sternum had been shattered and damaged and destroyed. His left leg had been in a cast because his humerus had been broken in three places. His shoulder had been crushed and had required extensive surgery. His nose and cheekbones had been broken. He had had a serious concussion. His entire body had been a mess of torn and broken flesh, bleeding and oozing.<p>

The Avengers had organized a huge under the radar rescue mission. Thor had been wounded in the rescue mission when he managed to save Natasha's life. She had only suffered minor wounds. Out of the hundreds of men who had assisted in kidnapping Steve and Tony, only fifty had been taken hostage by SHIELD, including Roberts.

And, just when the Avengers had thought that they had finally saved Steve and Tony, and caught Roberts, the guy who they had originally thought was behind the whole thing, Roberts and all his associates had swallowed cyanide pills and killed themselves. The Avengers had thought they were home free. But, just when they had though Steve was okay, the guy named Clarke had broken into the hospital, somehow managing to sneak past security, and he had tried to kill Steve. But, he hadn't succeeded. The Avengers had then thought he was the brains behind the abduction, but it turned out he wasn't. He was killed by his boss, the real brains in the abduction. The Avengers hadn't caught the boss, but they knew his name and they knew where he was. It was just a matter of getting him, now.

Steve was almost completely healed. His chest hurt sometimes and his shoulder ached, but all the cuts and scrapes and deep gashes were almost gone, and the only evidence of his injuries was the slightly pink and still fading scarring covering his entire chest and lower body. Walking was painful if he was on his feet for too long, but the cast on his left leg was gone. He had been allowed to get out of bed after a week of staying in Stark Tower. It took another week for him to be able to stand and walk without help. And the minute he had been able to do that, he had returned to his own bedroom and refused any more medical assistance. The serum was kicking in again, and the pain was no longer that mind-numbing, excruciating agony he had experienced in the beginning. It had dulled to a bearable throb, and for Steve that was enough for him to no longer need medical help.

Tony's chest still hurt, and his cheek stung, but the painkillers he was on were strong and they dulled the pain to the point of nonexistence. Bruce and Hill and Coulson had spent hours and hours a day stuck in the lab, going over the video footage that had been handed in to them that had provided them with a lead. They had sent a photograph of the identified man in the video to every country in North and South America, Europe, Asia and Africa. If anyone saw the man in the photograph, the authorities were alerted and the authorities then alerted SHIELD. The man had been traveling across Europe fast, which led Bruce to thinking that he had help from someone with contacts in high places. They had to get him without putting the lives of innocent citizens at risk, which was proving difficult. He would board a passenger plane, land, get off, and be on the next plane within a matter of mere minutes. His movements were unpredictable and erratic, therefore hard to follow. He never went anywhere private, he was constantly surrounded by innocent people. Which was why it would be difficult.

Tony spent day after day stuck in his own lab, creating and planning machines that could prove useful if any of the members were ever to be abducted again. Tracking chips that could be injected into every member and that were virtually unbreakable. Door handles that only allowed doors to be opened by registered SHIELD agents. Alarms that warned the people in the building when someone unauthorized entered the building. He didn't want to talk about what had happened to he and Steve, and he didn't want to hear about it. Each time he looked at Steve's stiff posture and slightly pained expression, it angered him and he returned to his lab to make something else new and improved.

Thor had returned to Asgard, but he visited Steve every few days to ensure he was okay and that he hadn't been taken again. He spent his time on Asgard finding ways to use his planet's resources to help fight Steve's abductor and his helpers. He spoke to Bruce a lot, and he watched Tony a lot. He was anxious to do something, anything, to help Steve and help the Avengers find the dumbass who hurt Steve and Tony.

Clint spent his time practicing his archery and loafing around Tony's place. He would check on Steve every hour, often spending hours on end forcing Steve to watch boxing or MMA. Steve spent that time trying to get Clint to watch baseball. They came to an agreement. Half the time in front of the television was spent watching baseball, and the rest of it was spent watching whatever the hell Clint wanted to watch. He was being overbearing and smothering, but Steve knew he was just protective and nervous that something could happen to Steve and Tony at any moment.

And, if Steve was honest, he liked the company. It kept him from reliving those moments of nothing but pure agony as Roberts beat him and tortured him. It kept him from dreaming about the hours he had spent wishing he could just pass out instead of suffer through the shock-inducing, excruciating pain that had seemed to run up and down each and every nerve end as he lay chained to the floor in that concrete hell hole of a prison he and Tony had been kept. And, it made him feel safer. He felt like if he was alone, he was vulnerable. He hadn't felt like that since he had been injected with the serum, and it scared him more than he was willing to admit. He felt so useless and weak and he was still too stiff and sore to make any really good attempts at protecting himself and his team. It frustrated him and infuriated him and upset him. He wasn't used to feeling like that anymore.

Natasha spent a lot of time watching Steve from a distance. She was still slightly shaken up by the events leading up to and resulting from Steve and Tony's capture. Things between she and Steve had been awkward since the passionate, _amazing_ kiss she had shared with him in his hospital room in Tony's building. They hadn't spoken about it or done it again. Natasha felt her heart flutter whenever she made eye contact with Steve. She had feelings for him that she was unwilling to acknowledge fully. Mainly because she was unsure of whether Steve felt the same or not. There were times when she saw Steve get up from a couch, or bend down to get a plate from a table, and she saw him wince and tense in pain that still plagued him. She would want to help him, but she was reluctant to. She was hesitant about making any physical contact with him, and she was unsure about whether he wanted her to or not. So she didn't.

So, it was then, exactly two weeks after Steve and Tony's rescue, that the agents of SHIELD congregated in Tony's boardroom. Natasha sat at the far end of the table on the far side of the room. Slowly, the table filled up as Clint and Bruce and Hill and Fury and Tony and Thor entered the room. They all said their hellos to each other, but the atmosphere was undoubtably tense. There was no tension between the Avengers themselves, but the indescribable emotions they had felt when Steve had almost died still hung in the air and followed them like a storm cloud. The last time they had all actually been able to laugh genuinely had been a long time ago. Before Steve and Tony were taken.

Steve was the last to enter the room. He was wearing a pair of light blue jeans and trainers and a loose grey Nike sweatshirt. Natasha watched him. He was walking slower than usual, and he was still slightly pale. He was hunched over ever so slightly, and his right arm was pressed tightly against his chest, though whether it was because he was used to it being so close after spending two weeks with his arm bandaged to his chest, or because his chest hurt or his shoulder hurt, Natasha was uncertain. He walked with a slight limp, but the doctor had said that now that the serum was no longer under so much strain, he would be back to his normal self in no time. Natasha hoped the doctor was right. She _hated_ seeing Steve in pain.

Most of the chairs in the boardroom were empty, but Steve ignored them and walked all the way to the other side of the room where Natasha was sitting. Her heart sped up as she watched Steve gingerly lower himself into the chair beside Natasha. He smiled at her shyly and placed his large hands on the wooden table. He shifted uncomfortably and winced slightly, but he quickly composed himself and faced the front. Natasha watched him. He noticed her eyes on him and he turned to face her. His mouth opened and closed as if he was going to say something but stopped himself. Then, he whispered, "Hi, Nat."

Natasha's green eyes met his blue ones. She didn't say anything at first. She just took in his perfectly refined features. She looked at his strong jaw and his perfectly sculpted nose and his unruly blond hair that had grown slightly longer so it hung over his forehead. She looked at his pink lips that were perked into a small, hopeful smile. She watched his bright blue eyes as they scanned her own body, stopping at the pink scar on her arm where a bullet had grazed her in the rescue mission for Steve and Tony. She adjusted the sleeve of her white shirt so the sleeve covered the fading scar. Then her hand fell into her lap and she fiddled with the dark blue denim jeans she was wearing. Steve watched her and she watched him as he tapped his fingers on the polished wooden table. His bright blue eyes were the same color as the walls in the boardroom. "Hey, Rogers." Natasha said softly. Steve smiled broadly and his eyes crinkled. Natasha did the same.

Fury stood up so he was standing at the front of the room, with the smart board behind him. He cleared his throat loudly and all the private conversations in the room came to a halt. He was wearing his usual black attire and eyepatch. Everyone was watching him, but Natasha couldn't tear her eyes away from Steve. She listened to Fury as she watched Steve breathe shallowly. A photograph of a man in his forties with short brown hair and fair skin and brown eyes appeared on the smart board. It was accompanied by a freeze frame from the video of him trawling the roofs by Steve's hospital room as he killed of SHIELD snipers. "Mark Jordan. He was born in Chicago, raised in Brooklyn, and moved to Dublin once he had graduated. He's been spotted in Budapest and hasn't appeared to be leaving any time soon." Fury announced, and Natasha's gaze traveled to Tony. His hands were balled into fists so tight that his knuckles were white. He had been chained up and beaten lightly and forced to watch Steve get tortured. He blamed himself for not helping Steve more, and he wouldn't listen when people told him that he had tried his best.

"What do we do?" Clint asked, shifting in his seat so he could lean forward with his elbows on the table. Natasha got that familiar feeling of calm as she looked away from Tony and faced Fury. She needed to find Jordan and she needed to make him suffer. She needed to make him suffer to the point of begging for her mercy, but she wouldn't give it to him. He didn't deserve mercy. Not after what he did to Steve and Tony. "We go after him, right?" Clint asked Fury, distracting Natasha from her thoughts.

"We need to go about this incredibly carefully. No room for mistakes." Fury said and Hill nodded in silent agreement.

Steve was tense beside Natasha and he kept shifting in his seat as if he wasn't able to get comfortable, or as if he was nervous. Natasha reached out to touch his arm comfortingly, but she withdrew her hand hesitantly. Steve hadn't even noticed. He was looking down at the table and his fingers were wrapped around each other tightly. Natasha whispered, "Are you okay?" Steve nodded, but Natasha didn't believe him. She wasn't going to challenge him, though. So, she turned to face the front again and said, "So, we what? We arrive in a helicarrier or two and take him as quickly and peacefully as possible? Cause if that's your plan, I think we got to go with a more under the radar approach, instead."

Fury's attention snapped to her, and everyone in the room turned to face her. Steve didn't. He seemed as though he was in his own world. Natasha ignored everyone else in the room and kept her attention focused on Fury. He nodded slowly and said, "We go with a quiet approach. This guy is somewhere in Budapest, but we don't have an exact location. So, we have to fan out and send our SHIELD agents to search the streets. Not us because they know our faces." He glanced around the room so as to ensure everyone had understood his instructions before he returned his attention to Natasha.

Natasha was about to argue, but Tony beat her to it. He suddenly stood up and slammed his palms down on the table. His face was red with what could have been anger but might have been fear. His black shirt was crinkled from hours of sitting down at the table in his lab. "No. If we get this guy, I'm going with!" He yelled. Fury's composure remained calm and unworried, even as Clint and Bruce stood up beside Tony. They both looked so tired. Everyone looked so tired. Their clothes were also wrinkled and creased and dirtied. No one could rest until Jordan was apprehended by SHIELD and the Avengers personally.

"We all go with, Fury." Clint said as he leaned forward so his hands were laying palm down on the table.

Thor nodded and stood up quickly, placing his big hands on the table like Clint had. He said, "Yes. I agree with Clint." Fury said nothing as he shook his head. Then, Coulson and Hill stood up. They were both wearing black suits and light blue button up shirts underneath. They nodded in agreement with Clint. Then everyone turned to Natasha and Steve. Natasha stood up slowly, mimicking Thor and Clint's posture as she leaned forward on the table. She could see Clint nod and smile out of the corner of her eye. She looked at Steve and waited to see what he would do. For a long time, he did nothing. He just sat there and stared at the table in front of him. Slowly, he looked up and made eye contact with Natasha, then Tony. Natasha saw Tony nod in encouragement, and Steve nodded almost imperceptibly in response. He placed his palms on the table and pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly at the movement. Everyone smiled as he stood. Even Natasha. She gently patted his left shoulder and he smiled at her.

"We all go," Steve said. Fury watched him for a long moment, possibly trying to figure out whether to agree or not. Natasha's gaze darted between Tony and Steve and Fury fast. Steve repeated, "We all go, Fury."

"All of us or nothing at all." Natasha agreed. Fury's gaze darted to her and he narrowed his eye. She shrugged nonchalantly, trying to convey the message that it was their way or the highway. She knew Fury wouldn't be able to argue with them for long. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, then that meant he wanted to go along just as badly as they did. It would only be a matter of time before Fury told them that they could go on the rescue mission, but it would have to be 'under the radar'. She was riding on that hope, and she knew everyone else was, too.

Fury took a deep breath and sighed in resignation. Then he cracked the smallest of smiles and nodded. "Fine. We do it, but under the radar. Understood?" He said. The room was filled with the sound of excitedly muttered agreements and enthusiastic whoops of achievement. He looked around the room and stood up straighter, placing his hands behind his back like he so often did. "We leave tomorrow morning. Be ready. Nine-thirty sharp." He said, and with that, he left the room.

Everyone spoke and smiled and joked with each other as they slowly began filing out the room. The tension in the air was no longer palpable now that hope of catching Jordan had been given. First, Coulson and Hill left to return to their duty of tracking Jordan as best they could. Then, Bruce left to study the latest blood samples from Steve to ensure the serum was indeed getting back on track. Steve's beating had been a harsh one. It had almost killed him. It had almost overpowered the serum. And, even though he was still healing faster than a normal human being, Bruce was cautious about taking the serum for granted. So was Natasha. Bruce had a quiet conversation with Steve and Tony before leaving and smiling at Natasha and Clint. Thor left next. He said something to Steve and Tony that Natasha couldn't be bothered to listen to. Clint and Tony left together. Tony whispered some comforting words in Steve's ear and gave his arm a tight squeeze. Steve responded by tapping Tony on the back. Soon, only Steve and Natasha were left in the room.

She turned and looked at Steve awkwardly. Her gaze traveled over his face, once again taking in his strong jawline covered in a day's stubble and she took in his perfect nose and his beautifully bright blue eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul. He was watching her. She took a step closer and looked up at him. Her heartbeat sped up and she swallowed the thick lump that had formed in her throat. She told herself to step away, but she didn't. She couldn't. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly. Steve's brow furrowed as his blue eyes searched her face. "With this, I mean. Will you be able to handle it?"

"Yeah," Steve replied. He shrugged his left shoulder and tried his best attempt at a smile. He looked at her and his eyes communicated unspoken emotions. Fear and anxiety and panic. He looked lost and confused and helpless and Natasha felt an overpowering need to protect him, to take him away from all of it. She knew he had seen a lot in his day, maybe more than she ever had. But, he didn't deserve to suffer through what he had, and it still made her angry. Every part of her body tingled to touch him and make him feel better. Her lips itched with the need to kiss him. Her hands were curled into fists to prevent herself from reaching out for him. His hands were also clenched into fists. "The pain isn't bad anymore. I'm okay." Steve added.

"You know I'm not talking about your..." Natasha trailed off, looking for the right word to say. "Your physical injuries, Steve." This time, she couldn't help it when her hand reached out and gently wrapped around Steve's huge bicep. The skin was still soft and pink with rapidly healing scars and scabs where only a portion of the innumerable stitches that had covered his body had been. In a few days, Steve would have nothing to remind himself or anyone else of what he had been through. No scars. No scabs. No pains. Just the memories. "Are you okay with all of this?" Natasha asked. She knew Steve was strong, but he had been through a lot, and she needed to make sure he was going to be able to handle a confrontation with the person who had organized his torture. Imagining a confrontation with your torturer and actually coming face-to-face with your torturer are two very different things.

Steve hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, and he hung his head. Natasha cupped his chin in her hand, and she stepped closer so their chests were almost touching. She was acting on impulse. She _couldn't_ kiss Steve again. They needed to forget that had ever happened. They were teammates, not lovers. But she couldn't help herself. She leaned in so close that she could feel his hot breath on her neck, and she was sure she could feel hers. And, suddenly, all impulse was ripped away from her as the door to the boardroom was opened. She ripped herself away from Steve and wiped her lips even though she hadn't actually kissed him. He remained motionless, staring at her speechlessly.

Coulson walked into the room and smiled at them. He stretched over and picked up his pen. "Forgot my pen." He said as he waved at them and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. Natasha turned to face Steve. Her cheeks became flushed and she felt hot. She shook her head in embarrassment.

"I have to go." She said as she hurried out of the room quickly and uncomfortably, leaving Steve alone in the room, staring after her wistfully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. I'm actually speechless. I'm so appreciative of the amazing support on my very first chapter! I would just like to say a huge soppy thank you to those of you who reviewed/followed/favorited. The reviews absolutely blew my mind! **

****I hope you enjoy this next chapter. This chapter isn't full of action or anything, but it's an important scene setter, and it allows some insight into how Steve and Tony(especially Tony) are dealing with the situation. But, I promise, Steve whump and action and excitement are soon to come. ****

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><p><p>

Tony was nervous, there was no denying it. He never used to get nervous. There was a time, long ago, when all that mattered to him was himself. The only responsibilities he had were to make sure he maintained his image and throw good parties. Drinking and selfishness and greed used to rule his life, and he used to enjoy it. But that was a long, long time ago. That was before he was involved in an explosion then captured and operated on without anesthesia. That was before he spent years living with shrapnel dangerously close to his heart, and the only thing stopping it was the arc reactor in his chest. That was before he became Ironman and was burdened with the responsibility of ensuring the safety of the citizens of not only New York, but the entire world. _Burdened_. That's what he used to think of it as, but he slowly learnt to view it as more of a privilege. The people of the world relied on him to save their lives purely because they trusted him and looked up to him and respected him. It was a privilege. And, it was when he took on that responsibility that he started getting truly nervous. Panic attacks and flashbacks and awful memories. And he had been nervous very often. It was a huge weight to have on your shoulders knowing that you had to protect the people of the world. So, he had often been nervous. He was especially nervous before the Chitauri incident. But he had never been this nervous.

Having to suffer through a surgery without any form of pain relief or sedatives is torture and indescribably, excruciatingly painful. Not many people had been through a surgery of complete lucidity and awareness like Tony had, and even less had survived. But Steve had. More than once. They never spoken about it, but the memories of surgery stuck with them. It was hard for Tony to see someone else's hands covered in his blood, and stuck down his chest. He had often had nightmares about it. He would wake up sweating and panting and clutching at the phantom pain in his chest that still felt so real and so recent, even years afterwards. But, not even that lived up to the feeling of helplessness that Tony had felt when he had been chained down and locked in a different room and forced to watch Steve get tortured.

Tony had been chained by his ankles and wrists to the ceiling and floor. Guards had stood on either side of him and hit him every so often when he had made too much of a fuss. He had been stuck in a tiny room in that dungeon hell hole that he and Steve had lived in for so long. Then, his kidnappers had turned on a light that had revealed an image that made Tony's stomach flip. Steve had been in a room parallel to the one Tony was trapped in. Steve was chained to the floor by taut chains that held him spread out with his arms at a ninety degree angle to his body, and his legs forced apart. The chains had little give, and Steve hadn't been able to move at all. He had been seriously injured already and he had been far too weak to put any real strength into fighting against his restraints. Tony had been forced to watch as Steve had been hit over and over and over again with brass knuckles that broke Steve's bones on contact, and a bat lined with metal spikes that tore through Steve's skin effortlessly. Tony had struggled and writhed in his chains until his wrists became raw and started bleeding, and, even then, he kept fighting. But his efforts had been in vain. And, that feeling of utter helplessness as he watched Steve suffer had torn through Tony's heart.

And, in the hours that followed, Tony's otherwise nonchalant composure began slowly cracking and faltering as he lay with a bleeding, semiconscious Steve in his arms. Steve had been bleeding everywhere, his bones had been shattered, his breathing had been labored, and his lucidity had been wavering, and he had been dying. Tony had held Steve in his arms and talked him through the hours, forcing the injured super soldier to stay awake and to refuse to succumb to the darkness that so welcomingly beckoned him. Steve had been in pain and he had suffered without mercy for hours, lying in a pool of his own blood, and Tony had been unable to ease Steve's suffering. It had scarred him, and, two weeks later, he still had nightmares about it. The nightmares about the surgery were long gone, instead replaced by the horrid memories of a dying twenty-something year old lying in his arms. But, Tony told no one of these dreams. Not even Steve. He pretended he was okay, even though he obviously wasn't. He pretended he had moved on, even though he hadn't.

As much as Tony wanted to exact revenge on the man who had done that to Steve, coming face-to-face with him was daunting and scary. Tony wasn't sure how he would handle it. Would he snap? Would he cower? Would he manage to maintain his collected facade? And, what made him even more worried, was how Steve would react. Steve was strong. Steve was practically unbreakable, but no one would be able to suffer through what Steve had and come out unharmed emotionally, and Steve was no exception. Two weeks later, and Tony and Steve were still injured. It was to he expected for Tony, he was just a human after all. But Steve was a super soldier, and no one had ever seen his injuries linger for so long, not even after he had been shot in the Chitauri incident. Tony noticed the way he limped, and winced when he moved too fast, and grimaced whenever he bent down or straightened up. It was hard to see a seemingly invincible Captain America so hurt.

Tony had spent the last couple of hours trying to pack and get ready for the anticipated journey to Budapest where Jordan was, but he had achieved absolutely nothing. Each time he picked up something or opened his bag, his thoughts would wander and he would get distracted. And not entirely involuntarily either. His thoughts kept drifting back to Steve. Was Steve packing or was he deliberately procrastinating, too? His thoughts kept returning to his memories of holding a bandaged and broken Steve in his lap on the hospital bed when the pain became too much for Steve's body to handle. When the nurses and doctors had rushed in time after time and replaced the blood soaked bed sheets and bandages in an extremely slow and agonizingly painful process. When he had spent hours just sitting in Steve's room and listening to the shattered super soldier's labored breathing as he slept. Each tiny inhale reminded Tony that Steve was okay, and put his restless mind at ease, even if only for a second. When he had watched the bandages get peeled off Steve's feverish body. The welts and bruises and gashes and stitches had been a terrible sight, and the memory would be etched in Tony's brain until the day he died.

Tony sighed heavily as he spread out on his bed, ignoring the slight tinge in his chest. He hadn't told Pepper about what he had experienced, and he hadn't told her about his nightmares. She knew he had them, but he never told her what they were about. She never asked. She knew Tony well enough to know that when he wanted to share something, he would. He didn't want to. He had spent his days stuck in his lab, creating useless shit that was a huge waste of time, but distracted him from his thoughts nonetheless. Clint spent time with him sometimes, just sitting and watching, sometimes making idle conversation as Tony worked. Sometimes, Steve would sit with him in silence. They didn't speak, and they didn't need to. They seemed to enjoy each others company simply because they could relate. They had been through something awful, and, in some strange way, it had helped them bond. They felt safe and comforted around each other. They understood each other better.

Tony cleared his throat and sat up slowly, staring at his wooden bedroom door intensely. Steve's room was close. He had heard Steve scream in the night, too. Tormented, agonized screams that pierced Tony's heart and left him awake for hours, waiting to hear another scream from Steve. Each night, he would tell himself the same thing; if Steve screamed more than once, he would rush into his room and sit with him, coach him through the night and let him know it was safe to go to sleep. But Steve never screamed more than once. Tony knew why. It was because Steve would wake up screaming, then spend the rest of the night lying awake on the bed. He knew that that was what Steve did, because it was what he did. It was what he had done for years and years.

Slowly, Tony stood up and walked to the door with his arm outstretched. He slid it open and glided through it gracefully. The hallway was empty, and Steve's bedroom door was ajar. The light was shining through the crack and into the hallway. Tony crept over to the door and peeked inside. Steve was sitting on the navy blue sheets on his double bed with his head hung low, and his face hidden by his scabbed hands. He was breathing heavily, like he was out of breath. An empty suit case sat beside Steve on the bed. Tony pushed the door open. The creak caught Steve's attention, and he lifted his head and stared at Tony questioningly. Steve's eyes were bright and red rimmed, as though he had been rubbing at his eyes, or crying, or both. He stared at Tony wordlessly. Tony didn't move for a long time, then he stepped forward and lowered himself onto the bed beside Steve gingerly. Steve watched his every step carefully. They sat in silence for a long time, then Tony said, "Hi,"

"Hi," Steve replied softly. His voice was weak and emotionless. Tony stared at Steve awkwardly for a long time, searching for the right words to say, but not finding them. Steve buried his face in his hands again and laughed bitterly. He shook his head and looked back up at Tony. "I can't do it." He said slowly, and he didn't have to elaborate. Tony knew exactly what he meant because he felt it, too. He awkwardly patted Steve's back, all too aware of the slightly rough skin of the scar tissue beneath the thin shirt. The scars and scabs would fade, and eventually disappear, but they would never be forgotten. The pain would always be remembered. "I can't do this, Tony. I thought I could, but I... I-" Steve stopped speaking abruptly and looked away from Tony.

"You don't have to," Tony said softly. It was a load of bullshit and he knew it, but he was at a loss for words. Steve didn't have to do it, but, if he was anything like Tony, which most people said he was, then he would want to whether he had a choice or not. He would want to meet the person who arranged his torture personally, and he would want to find out why they did it, no doubt. But, wanting to do it was very different to actually doing it. So, even though there was no pressure or influence from Fury or any of their other Avengers teammates, Steve still had to do it. He had to do it for himself. He had to do it for closure. Otherwise, he would regret it one day. At least, that was Tony's argument. "But you should," He added, choosing his wording as carefully as possible. "For yourself."

Everyone had been walking on eggshells around Steve and Tony, as if they would break at any second. Words were carefully selected, jokes were dismissed quickly if Steve or Tony couldn't find it in themselves to laugh, and the '_incident_' was never spoken about unless a new lead had been found and was being followed. That's all it had become. _An incident._ An unfortunate incident that everyone would rather forget about than work through. At first, Tony didn't mind the careful planning and constant watching the others always seemed to do concerning himself and Steve, but as the days drove on, it became tedious and annoying. He needed normality. That would be the only thing that could truly help him move on. He needed familiarity so that he knew that he could beat his traumatic memories. Instead, it felt like they were beating him.

"I know," Steve replied. He got up, using the bed as leverage to push his still aching body into an upright position, and he turned to face Tony. He leaned against the beige wall, placing his arms over his chest protectively. His teary eyes met Tony's. Neither looked away. On the wall beside Steve was his newest Captain America costume. The other one had been completely ripped to shreds and covered in blood that would never wash out. So, they had thrown it away. Tony had thrown his jeans and shirt away, too. They had been covered in Steve's blood, turning the denim into a dark purple and the shirt into a crimson-black. Steve's left hand gently ran over the padded material on the costume, and he cracked a minute smile. "You think he knows we're coming?" Steve asked, his gaze darting over to Tony.

Tony narrowed his eyes in concentration as he thought about it. He stood up from the bed slowly, all too aware of the slight pain in his chest. The painkillers were wearing off. He walked over to the huge window that covered the majority of the wall adjacent to Steve's bed. He leaned on the sill heavily and watched the traffic whiz past on the street below. As far as he knew, SHIELD was out of its depth. They were going up against a group who successfully managed to abduct Steve and Tony from a helicarrier full of SHIELD agents. They had known all the right codes and all the weakest points and all the quietest spots. They were well informed, and whether it was due to rigorous research or a mole inside SHIELD, that was their biggest advantage against SHIELD. Fury had had a detailed discussion about the possibility of an inside traitor, feeding information to Jordan, but no conclusions were drawn up. Either way, Jordan had all the information he needed at his fingertips, and SHIELD still had a lot of unknowns. Unknowns that could make or break the mission.

"We have to accept that as a possibility." A voice said from behind Tony, and he spun on his heels quickly so he was facing the doorway. Steve had stepped away from the wall and he was standing as straight as his still healing body would allow. He was facing Fury, who stood in the doorway. Tony nodded a greeting and leaned back against the windowsill so his feet were planted firmly on the ground, but his back was leaning against the window. "That's why we take a less obvious approach. The helicarriers will be up in the air, but they will be invisible to those below it. We will arrive in Budapest at different time intervals so no suspicion is raised. No uniforms. No visible weaponry. That way," Fury said, taking a step inside Steve's room. The atmosphere was tense, and each man in the room stood rigid with anticipation. The anxiousness was almost palpable. "Even if Jordan expects us, he still won't be aware that we are there." Steve and Tony nodded silently. Fury gazed at them both before turning on his heels and walking out the door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder briefly as he said, "Stark, go to your room. Get packed. There's a team meeting in thirty minutes." With that, he left.

* * *

><p>Tony sat directly across from Steve at the wooden boardroom table. Natasha sat beside Steve, and Clint sat beside Natasha. Thor and Bruce sat beside each other on the chairs to Tony's right. Hill and Coulson sat directly opposite each other on either side of the table, closest to the front. Fury stood in front of the boardroom table with an updated map of Budapest on the screen behind him. Other SHIELD agents stood around the boardroom table by the walls, with notepads in their hands and Bluetooth comms in their ears. There was the general sound of chit chat that filled the room, but neither Tony nor Steve contributed to the sound. They both sat looking down at the table, anxiously tapping their knuckles on the wooden table. Steve's right arm was pushed up against his chest with the elbow at a ninety degree angle.<p>

"Okay, listen up." Fury shouted sternly, and the room fell silent immediately as all conversation abruptly ended. Fury stood slightly to the side so that the huge map of Budapest could be seen by everyone in the room. There were satellite images of houses, and shopping malls, and libraries. There were little labels that marked every recognized building as either private or public. The streets were labelled and the latitude and longitude lines were clearly marked. "We leave in three hours. I hope you're all packed and ready to go." Fury said, followed by a mumbled collective response. "Great. Each of you will be assigned specific roles and duties. I'm going to hand over to Agent Coulson."

Coulson scrambled up from the table hurriedly and rushed to the front of the room, almost dropping his pens and papers along the way. He straightened his black suit and cleared his throat nervously. Fury sat down in Coulson's seat gracefully. Coulson's blue eyes met Tony's and they silently communicated sympathy and promise. Promise that he wouldn't let Tony down. "As Directer Fury said, each of you will be assigned specific roles," Coulson said. "This is a covert operation. That means, no SHIELD uniforms or badges or anything associated with SHIELD for the next few days until we catch Jordan."

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat and risked a glance at Steve, who was watching Coulson with narrowed eyes. Natasha and Clint already looked like they were pumped up and ready to go. Everyone was in plain clothing, even Fury. Coulson glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding when people smiled for assurance that everyone understood. "Okay, obviously that means you wear casual clothing. By looking at all of you, I'd say you got the memo. What's going to happen is," Coulson said, moving off to the side and pointing at a small area on the map on the outskirts of Budapest that was labelled as an airport. "We will be leaving in groups of six. That means there will be four different trips. The intervals between each landing will differ so no suspicions are raised and no questions are asked." Coulson explained.

He turned and faced the boardroom, holding a clipboard with a list of names on it in his hands. He glanced up at the people in the room individually as he read out their names. Then he cleared his throat and smiled that friendly, carefree Coulson smile that seemed to put everyone in a better mood. Even Tony, usually, but not this time. "Okay," He said. "You six will be together." He pointed at Natasha and Clint and four of the SHIELD agents standing behind them. Three women, three men, counting Natasha and Clint. Coulson turned to face the other side of the room and said, "And, you six will be traveling together." He pointed at Thor and Bruce and four of the agents behind them. Five men and one woman. He turned to face the centre of the room and said, "You six together." He pointed at Steve and Tony and four of the agents. Two women, four men. Steve and Tony glanced up and met each others gaze. They were nervous, and their gaze communicated thousands of unspoken emotions. Steve cracked the tiniest of smiles of reassurance, and Tony managed to do the same. He guessed that as long as they were together, they would be okay.

"The rest of you will come with Agent Hill and myself," Coulson continued. "Lucky you." He smiled and Hill giggled softly. They had three men and three women. Coulson put the clipboard back down and said, "The groups you travel in will not be the groups you complete the mission in. Everyone will be split up into pairs. Some of you will be required to act as couples, others not. It will help you blend in." He turned and faced the board again. He pointed at twelve different spots in Budapest. All of them surrounded a private building that was assumed to be a house on the outskirts of Budapest. Then, he pointed at the house and said, "This is where Jordan has been seen and reported. He's also been seen around this area," Coulson drew a rough circle surrounding the house. He then pointed at the twelve spots on the map again, some on sidewalks, some in busy streets, some in parks, some by shops. "This is where we will all be stationed. There is a schedule. Each of you will be required to spend a specific amount if time at each spot before moving onto the next. Whether you fill that time simply roaming the street or actually shopping is up to you. All we require of you is to stay aware and pay attention to your surroundings at all times. If you see someone who looks even remotely like Jordan, report it in."

"We need each one of you to give your all in this mission, it's important. As you walk out, Agent Hill will be handing out lists with detailed explanations of who your partners will be, and your schedules for the next five days. Follow it and don't try to change it. Alright?" Coulson asked. There was a collective mumbled response followed by general chit chat. Coulson nodded to Hill and they had a whispered conversation. Coulson nodded and smiled as Hill turned and walked towards the door. The SHIELD agents started filing out of the room, each one collecting a sheet of paper. Clint and Natasha left next, stopping for only a few seconds to make a comment to Steve and Tony. Thor and Bruce followed, totally engulfed in a conversation about who the hell knows what. Tony wasn't listening to them. Their words were a blur. He and Steve stayed, both unwilling to get up, both too consumed by their thoughts. Once everyone had left the room, barring Steve and Tony and Fury, who still sat at the wooden boardroom table. Fury cleared his throat loudly and turned to face Steve and Tony. Tony looked up slowly, hoping that his emotionless facade was believable. He hoped he didn't look nervous.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Fury asked. Steve and Tony nodded in unison, both hesitating slightly. "You two are going to be separated. You can't be seen together. Even in disguise, it's too risky," Fury said firmly, his tone stern but his expression soft. Tony nodded slowly. He had never really expected to be partnered with Steve, but he felt disappointed that he wasn't. One glance at Steve confirmed that he felt the same. Steve was nodding slowly, looking at Fury intensely. His lips were pursed and his brows were raised.

"Okay," Tony said. Memories rushed through Tony's head suddenly. Steve lying unconscious on the floor. Steve chained to the roof, covered in bruises and scrapes and gashes. Steve trembling so hard that the trembling reverberated through Tony and made him shake. Thinking Steve wasn't going to make it. "Fine." His heart beat quickened, his hands started sweating, and he suddenly felt hot.

"I need to go." Steve said, and he stood up slowly, wincing only slightly, and walked out of the room without another word. Tony watched him before glancing back at Fury.

"You understand, right?" Fury asked.

"Yes," Tony said softly. The weeks of hoping for revenge on Jordan had gone to waste. Because, sitting in a boardroom, faced with the actual opportunity of facing Jordan, he wasn't sure he could do it. The memories were too hard, the memories were too raw. He knew that Fury was reluctant to let Steve and Tony go to Budapest, but they had convinced him to. He couldn't let Fury down, he couldn't show his weakness, and he had to prove to himself that he could do it. But it was hard. And _scary_. "I have to go." He got up gingerly and practically ran out of the room. His heartbeat was fast and only speeding up more, his brow was clammy, and his chest was constricting. He had thought he was over the panic attacks. Obviously he wasn't, because he was having one right then and there, in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by SHIELD agents.


End file.
